How Nina Got Her Fang Back: Accidental Quickie (Accidentally Paranormal Series Book 13) (8 page)

“Then here’s what I want you to do before our next appointment tomorrow. Think of one, Nina. Think of a plan. Tell me how you’ll talk to Charlie and Carl and explain that you’re different. What you hope to do with your time when your friends are still youthful and fit and you’re part of a knitting club at a retirement home.”

Nina’s eyebrow rose, but then she eyeballed January and grinned—wide. “Fuck knitting. It’s Ping-Pong or bust.”

But January chose to ignore Nina’s blatant refusal to acknowledge her words. “Just a loose outline will do for now, but give it some thought tonight and I’ll see you tomorrow, same time.”

“We done here? Am I excused, Dr. Malone?”

January didn’t miss the sarcasm in Nina’s tone, but she gave her a sunny smile and pushed away from her desk. “Free bird, baby.”

There was a sudden commotion, making both Nina and January look up and toward her office door. Voices were raised, heated and animated.

Nina was the first to rise from her chair. She pushed off, using her hands on the arms as leverage and strode toward the door. “Fuck all. If Marty’s out there grousing about validating her parking, I’ll fix her ass. Don’t you worry, Doc. I won’t let her screw with you. We’re fucking rich, for Christ’s sake. I don’t know why she has to make such a big stinkin’ deal about shit.”

But as she threw the door open, it wasn’t Marty making a scene at all.

No, in fact, it was Galen, just outside the thin glass that separated her reception area from the hallway and elevators.

Marty and Wanda both looked to January, their eyes rimmed with concern, their bodies frozen to the spot.

January cocked them a glance in question as she watched Galen’s strong hands fly about in the air, clearly agitated. “What’s going on?”

Elsa, her receptionist, short and elderly and also a fellow witch, smoothed the ruffles on the front of her polka-dot blouse. “That hunky doctor next door is arguing with someone.” She shivered, her round cheeks vibrating. “He’s so manly when he’s all worked up, eh, ladies?”

Nina—being Nina—strode to the door and flung it open, pushing her way out and cornering Galen and the other man. A man January couldn’t quite see over Nina’s tall frame.

“Hey! What the fuck is wrong with you two? There are goddamn people in here with mental-health related issues. Like
me
. And I’m telling you, I’m fragile, bitches. Fragile with a capital edgy. You do not—I repeat—
do not
want to set me off. I’m like a GD volcano just waitin’ to blow. So shut the fuck up and take it the hell outside!”

Galen was the first to respond, his handsome, pale face and strong body tight with tension. “My apologies, Dr. Malone. We didn’t mean to disturb you with your patient,” he offered in a curt tone before his beautiful eyes the color of green marbles moved from January’s face and focused on the far wall to avoid even merely glimpsing at her.

“Indeed. Our apologies,
Doctor
,” the man Nina blocked from view reiterated.

“Who the fuck
are
you, in here harassing doctors? Jesus, can’t anyone get some friggin’ respect these days? Bet you eat corn chips in the library, too. What’s wrong with you?” Nina demanded of the man, leaning down to peer into his face.

But January grabbed her arm from behind, fighting a cringe. She knew that voice. She knew it well. “It’s okay, Nina. Come on, let’s go make an appointment with Elsa for tomorrow and let these two hash out whatever the problem is on their own.”

But the man raised his slender hand, reaching up to plant it on Galen’s shoulder, giving him a hard pat. Then he smiled, working hard to ooze charm from every slimy pore on his scrawny body. “It’s fine, Dr. Malone. We were just grousing about baseball, if you can believe it, weren’t we, Galen? We got a little heated, as men are wont to do when they challenge one another in the sports arena. Nothing to worry about. Right, Galen?”

“Right,” Galen responded, the tic in his jaw pulsing like mad—meaning everything was not all right.

Stepping between the women, he glanced up at Nina and smiled pleasantly, his long, thin face pale, as opposed to his lips, which were a deep ruby red. “Again, so sorry, Miss…?” He looked up at her hopefully, his deep-set dark eyes searching hers while knowing full well who she was.

“Nina Blackman-Statleon. Besides loud and rude as fuck
, who
are you?”

January gulped and inhaled with as little sound as possible.

He beamed at Nina, slicking back his glossy, raven-colored hair before he extended his hand to her. “I’m Artem Casteel. Undoubtedly, the pleasure is all mine.
All mine
.”

“
I
should have ripped his throat out then and there. You know what it was like to stand there and look that motherfucker in the face, knowing the whole time he wants my ass in a wooden sardine can? Why the fuck did you let me walk into that shit blind, Doc?” Nina crabbed at January as they all sat around a table in the basement office of OOPS.

There was an enormous poster of Mulder and Scully on the wall with the words “I Believe” scrawled across it, hanging just above Nina’s head. The phones they had set up on each of their desks to take calls sat in silence, much as
they
all had since they’d arranged to meet on this balmy July night.

“It’s not like you gave her a chance, Nina,” Marty pointed out, reapplying her pink lip gloss for the third time since they’d arrived. “This is exactly why we ask you to slow down. It isn’t because we like being nags, Acts-Like-Thug. It’s because sometimes you open that big gaping hole on your face and cause more trouble than we need before you even know what the heck is going on.”

“It’s okay, Marty. She was just doing what she does best. Protecting everyone,” January defended, oddly warmed by Nina taking Galen under her wing—even if her wing was very mortal and easily clipped. “Yes, she was brash and loud, but Artem has no idea she even knows what’s going on or who he is. So it all worked out.”

Nina sighed, reaching into her hoodie for a Twizzlers with an expression that said,
see?
“What the shrink said. I saw Galen and he looked pretty wanked, so I went out swinging. I was just looking out for him. Because like the Doc said, it’s what I do. She gets it, why the hell don’t you two?”

Wanda shifted in her office chair, crossing and re-crossing her legs. She let her mint-colored wedge sandal dangle from her toes. “So that was the big bad Artem, huh?”

“That was him,” January replied dismally. She knew damn well they hadn’t been arguing about sports. What worried her was
what
they’d been arguing about.

Had Artem caught them? Had that snake Rowdy figured out who she was and given them up? Damn. And where
was
Galen, anyway?

Nina nodded. “I could prolly take him even as a human. He’s a weaselly lookin’ shit. You shoulda just let me kick his ass right then and there. Problem solved.”

January patted Nina’s hand and shook her head in admonishment. “No, Nina. You cannot take him. He’s a vampire. Need I remind you once more, you are a
human
with human strength and capabilities?”

“You sure harp on that shit a lot, Doc. Sing a diff tune, huh?” she said on a wink, stretching the strawberry-flavored licorice between her teeth until it broke.

But January gave her a stern look and tapped the table with a finger. “I’ll sing the same tune like a broken record until you acknowledge and take your humanity seriously. Artem is a vicious killer. He’s killed before in accordance with his clan laws. He justifies plenty with his iron fist. So again I say, no tangling with vampires because you, quite plainly, aren’t strong enough.”

“Doc’s right, Nina,” the man introduced to her as Darnell said.

From the moment his burly hand had swallowed hers and he’d grinned down at her, all white teeth, gold chains, high-tops and warm vibes, January felt safe.

Whatever his story was, however he’d become a demon, he was good to the soul. She didn’t need a degree in psychology to tell her that. His aura was crystal clear.

Darnell scrubbed a hand over his shortly cropped hair, his eyes a mixture of sorrow and worry. “Y’all gotta be careful now that we talkin’ the paranormal council. That ain’t no joke. Word gets back you bein’ violent, and it’s gon’ get real, Boss. I won’t be able to take it if they shun you. Believe that.”

“How the fuck is it everyone knew about this damn council and I’ve never heard about it?” Nina asked. “It’s like I suddenly just got the invitation to the party. I had no flippin’ clue there was a bunch of ratchety-ass elders from each species who could pass judgment and it was the law. I thought each clan or pack or gaggle of sirens or whatever had their own branches and that was that. No one’s ever interfered with Greg before.”

“Because you damn well don’t listen, Nina!” Wanda yelped, slamming her hand down on the surface of the table they all sat around, making everyone jump, including Nina.

She leapt up from her seat, her usually serene face tight with anger. “Damn it! It’s because you seem to think you can do whatever you want simply because you deem it so! So why would you care if a council of elders existed? No skin off your pert nose, right? Because no one tells Nina the Ass Beater what to do! But there are rules. There have
always
been rules. We’ve bent them, we’ve worked outside of them, but they exist. Greg is a powerful leader in your clan, but he’s not the sire. He’s not in charge. He
can
be overruled.

“Now it’s time to really listen. Just this once. I’m begging you, my friend. There are lives at stake here. A baby.
Your
baby—
my niece
. January and Galen’s baby. Darnell…
all
of us. We can’t risk upsetting the applecart. This isn’t a time to throw your weight around. God in heaven, how many times can I explain that before you get it through your thick skull?” Tears welled at the corners of her eyes when Wanda finished ranting, surprising January.

Wanda had reached her breaking point. It was evident as she slumped back in her chair. She was tired. Tired of watching Nina shatter before her, picking up the scattered pieces to glue them all back together, only to see them break again.

The man named Archibald—elderly, spry, dressed in a butler’s uniform, complete with ascot and an utterly charming British accent—reached across the table and took Wanda’s hand, pressing the back of it to his lips. “For that I could ease this pressure you’re all under. Know that I would.”

Nina instantly grabbed her friend’s free hand and squeezed it before letting go. No sarcasm, no snarky comebacks. Just compassion. “I’m sorry, okay? I get it. I’ll try and chill the fuck out. Don’t cry, Wanda. I hate when you fucking cry.”

Carl came from behind Wanda, his tall body and oddly un-zombie-like features a surprise to January. She’d seen many things in her time on this earth, but never a zombie, especially not one as sweet and endearing as Carl.

He wrapped his arms around Wanda’s neck and squeezed, thumping her on the shoulder with a hand that had duct tape keeping his thumb on. “S’okay,” he murmured, closing his eyes and rocking back and forth.

According to Nina, he was just learning to speak, but his heart spoke volumes. He was a gentle lamb in a hurricane of discourse, and the sight of him, the sweet, loving sight of him, made January’s heart clench until her chest ached.

Wanda squeezed him back, resting her head on his arm. “I’m sorry, Carl. I didn’t mean to upset you. Forgive me?”

He nuzzled the top of Wanda’s head and nodded.

Marty cleared her throat and sat up straight, smoothing the ends of the wide green-and-pink band holding her hair away from her face. “Okay. It’s time to get serious. We have what, just a few days now before council calls?”

“How do you know the date they’ve set for the council summit?” January asked, surprised.

Marty held up a letter—an official council letter.

Nina dug something out of her back pocket and dropped it on the table. “Yep. They’re meeting on Monday. That’s a letter from those ancient motherfuckers, telling me I’d better show up or I’m meat.”

Wanda and Darnell each reached for something, too. As Wanda dug into her purse and Darnell pulled something from his own back pocket, January’s dread heightened. Simultaneously, they plopped the same stationary on the table that Nina had.

January swallowed hard. “So everyone’s been ordered to appear.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of fact. She knew what those letters meant. They wanted to question them. More specifically,
Artem
wanted to question them. He wanted to poke and toy with them to prove to the council elders he was right, and these people were a detriment—but mostly, he wanted to shame them in front of an audience.

Wanda nodded, her stare vacant. “Looks like it. But you know what? I’m not going to apologize for doing what we do here. I don’t give a damn what clans and councils and packs say. We help people. We help a lot of people, and in the process, we save them from going somewhere outside of the paranormal community for that help. I hope this stupid paranormal council’s prepared to hear that.”

“You been to one of these summit meetings, Arch?” Nina asked.

Arch blew out a breath, his sagging cheeks expanding outward. “I have. ’Tis serious business of the highest order. But ’tis also rare the blustery old bags of bones gather. I can only take that to mean this cretin, Artem, has stirred the pot quite vigorously to rouse them to this level of anxiety. I know his kind. Oh, indeed I do. Smiles and good cheer to your face, while they stick the knife between your shoulder blades!”

“Fucking perfect,” Nina muttered.

The throb in January’s temples increased tenfold. Goddess, this was never going to work. They had to come up with something on Artem before Monday—before he went in front of a bunch of panicked elders and showed them proof the new laws were too lax, and he was going to use Nina’s sessions as a case in point.

A rap of knuckles on the door to OOPS had Darnell up and out of his seat, flexing his muscles. He dragged it open, the heavy weight of it scraping against the concrete floor.